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My birth is met with a tired sigh and a tearTo the world, I’m a piece of flesh to tearAs I grow, my innocent soul feels soreFor, my spirit, it is never allowed to soar!

Each day I watch my brother have my fare,It’s not right, it’s not done, it’s not fair!Yet, early on, I learn not to raisemy voice; my hopes, I have to raze

Jibes taunts and curses, I’ve heard them allNo matter they pierce, as sharp as an awlSmiling, I chart my own destiny’s course,Ignoring the stares and words so coarse

Clawing my way to the top, now I stand,Vindicated by my beliefs and my stand,I bleed, I bruise, but conquer and achieve this featToday the world that shunned, is finally at my feet!
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Aruna Menon is a Gynecologist working in the Central Government. Relationships and words fascinate her. She writes both prose and verse. She loves weaving stories and has a blog called Ripples and Reflections on WordPress. She loves her job and often writes on work life balance. She's always a romantic at heart.